


Branded

by 4million_HungryBears



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Gaslighting, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Men of Letters, Panic Attacks, Parental Abuse, Possession, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, The Men of Letters are Assholes, Torture, don't worry its gonna be ok guys, eventual castiel, he's coming eventually trust me, these tags are a WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:36:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28889217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4million_HungryBears/pseuds/4million_HungryBears
Summary: John Winchester was a Man of Letters. He had always been a Man of Letters, like his father before him, and his own father before that.He learned to serve the Men of Letters whole heartedly, and would continue to do so ‘till the end of his days.He does not hesitate when the Men of Letters ask him completely remove any emotional ties to his two sons- uh sorry, Tools of Armageddon.He does not hesitate when they ask him to do unspeakable things to them in attempts to change the course of the future.He does not hesitate,All for the sake of humanity of course.---------Updates on Wednesdays!
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This idea stemmed from an au comic I read a long time ago(not supernatural related), and I started thinking about what would happen if I put supernatural characters into this situation. 
> 
> So basically this is an au of an au, kinda.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Fair warning, this fic has a lot of hurt in it for the Winchester brothers. Not every chapter but definitely many.

“John Winchester…”

“Yes?” 

“You know what you must do?”

“Yes.” 

“You know that… your children, they must never be what they are to you now. They are vessels to great archangels, meaning they are no longer yours. Are you willing to sacrifice them in preparation for the coming Armageddon?” 

“I am willing and prepared to do what is necessary.” 

“Swear by it…” 

“I, John Winchester, son of Henry Winchester and so forth, a Man of Letters, swear to prepare the vessels of the apocalypse for the sake of humanity. I swear that their previous relation to me will not sway me from my mission, and I swear to serve and obey the Men of Letters through whatever they ask of me.”

“.... I am sorry for your loss…” 

“.... It was bound to happen… this life is rarely forgiving to those who participate in it.” 

\------------

John Winchester was a Man of Letters. He had always been a Man of Letters, like his father before him, and his own father before that. 

He learned to serve the Men of Letters whole heartedly, and would continue to do so ‘till the end of his days. 

The reason he sat, straight backed in a metal chair across from several Men of Letters elders in one of the largest Men of Letters facilities in the United States, was due to the occurrence of a recent tragedy. 

He had taken time to recover of course. A little over a year in fact. This did not however lessen the impact that his wife, Mary Winchester, was dead. Killed in a horrific fire caused by an evil creature of magnificent power. 

The demon, Azazel, John now knew, had crept into his baby son’s room and when seen by poor Mary Winchester, the house had gone up in flames. John had given the infant to his elder son, only 4 years old, and told him to run outside, to not look back. John had tried to save his burning wife, but of course it was too late. 

Suspended on the ceiling, bleeding from a wound in her stomach, she burned, for witnessing things she should not have.

John, in the time after Mary’s death, had called for aid from fellows in the Men of Letters. They had done extensive research as to why, why did this happen. What led to Mary Winchester suffering such a fate and what could be the reason behind it all? 

At the end, the Men of Letters came up with an explanation. One that would, in the most literal sense, change the world. 

\----------

“Where are the subjects now?” 

“They are being supervised in the library. Sam is nearly two now and Dean has been pretty dedicated to teaching him to walk-” 

“You will no longer refer to them by those names.” 

“W- What?” 

“Given the lengths we may need to go to prepare them, it is best to not use names, to avoid… unnecessary attachments. You may call them SM1 and SL2, for Subject Michael and Subject Lucifer.”

“Do I still use their names when talking to them?” 

“We fear it will be unavoidable until their induction into the project. While they remain in their young development stage you may refer to them with their names, but not in reports, or when speaking to other Men of Letters members, do you understand?” 

“Yes…. How long do I have?”

“Eight years at the most.” The elders looked at John. “Your training will be critical for your involvement in this project” 

“Of Course." John nodded, and started to stand up. "And you will provide me with the resources to catch and destroy the demon Azazel?” 

“We can assure you that you will have our full support.” The elders said, nodding. “Thank you for your cooperation.” 

John gave a bow, then stepped out of the room.


	2. Opening Statements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John talks for a bit. Its a report.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. It's just a report.
> 
> I know first person can be a turn-off for some people but I literally just need to write this way in order to explain and get certain points across from, very specifically, John's point of view. 
> 
> Bare with me ok? It all just a report for the men of letters. 
> 
> And it wont all be like this.

A tape recorder was sat at a desk. With a satisfying click the tapes started to roll.

“The date: September the 19th, 1993. Report number 1 on the Vessel Project. John Winchester speaking. 

It's been 10 hours since I put the subjects in their cells. As decided by the elders, the subjects have been inducted into the project two years ahead of schedule. They have ordered this to allow the subjects time to adjust, and considering the procedure both of them have just experienced, I believe that is wise. 

Undergoing an ‘evocation erasure’ process may result in a few side effects, such as having to relearn simple things like speech, or ambulatory movement. There will be a learning curve but we can adjust to that. 

There's no turning back for this project anyways. I knew what I signed up for since the beginning. 

For now I have them separated. I do not know if they would remember each other. They shouldn’t. 

The elders have also decided that I should be the sole leader on this project. I have been provided a lab of my own, separate from the bunker. I will get my orders from outside sources of course and report to them regularly, but when it comes to interactions with the subjects, I am to be the only one, unless circumstances require different methods than what I can provide. The nature of the subjects upbri-.... development is very delicate and it would be damaging to the project if they were to get any ‘ideas’. 

I myself have gone under the required training to perform this project. The Men of Letters are very thorough in their training programs and I will not be a risk to the project. I cannot be. The very fate of humanity rests on my shoulders and I will perform to the best of my abilities. No attachments I had with the subjects will hinder my progress in this project. 

I have taken the necessary steps to ensure that.

Subject M1 has just awoken. As expected he tried to stand and fell. They will be clumsy and confused for the next few days, and not in just their movements. I imagine speech will come to them soon after, but only with interaction… from me that is. 

Subject L2 has not yet woken up.

End of report.”

The tape recorder clicked again, pausing the tape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keeping the chapters kinda short, mostly to avoid burn-out. 
> 
> I've had that happen to me with big projects before and I don't wanna for this one.


	3. Food Stuff and the New Thing

He did not remember much. 

And mostly that was all he could think about. 

That he didn't and could not remember much. 

He had the feeling that he should remember something. Something in his brain is always screaming at him that there's something missing. Something you left behind. But despite how hard he thought back he always came back to the same conclusion. 

He did not remember much. 

And he knew he should be far too big to not remember much. 

When he had first opened his eyes, he was lying on a small bed next to the brick wall. It was not very comfortable. 

The rest of the room was small. A single light hung overhead and at the front end of the room was no wall. 

Only bars.

And there was no way to get on the other side of those bars. None that he could see at least. 

He looked down at himself. He was dressed in grey clothes, plain, unmarked and unused. His feet were bare. 

As he was looking down he noticed something on the floor beside the bed. It was wrapped in paper mostly, but as he bent over to pick it up he saw that one end was uncovered. 

It had a brown, crumbly texture and he sniffed at it. 

His stomach growled.

It smelled ok, but he hesitated before biting into it.

Food stuff. It was not very flavourful, not that he had anything to compare it to. He continued to chew it, for it wasn't unpleasant. 

Food stuff in hand he had tried to stand up, but soon found that as soon as he put weight on his legs he fell. 

The food stuff in his hands went flying and with a horrid dip in his chest he watched the food stuff fall through the bars. 

He crawled over to the bars wanting his flood stuff back. He reached through the bars. It lay there on the floor and he struggled. His shoulder pressed into the bars as he tried to reach, just barely brushing his fingers against the paper but not enough to grab hold. 

He whined. He needed to be longer. He pushed himself, his limb stretching. Again his fingers brushed up against the paper. 

With a sudden jab he hoped to grab it, but clumsily, the food stuff was pushed farther away from him. 

He huffed. He snarled. He screamed his frustration, rattling the bars. 

There was movement down the hall, footsteps, then a new thing stepped into the light outside of the bars and he quickly scrambled backwards. 

“What’s going on?” The new thing said. Then it shook its head. “Why am I even bothering to ask, you shouldn’t be able to understand me yet.” 

It looked like himself but it was definitely bigger than him. It was definitely scary.

He glanced down briefly at the food stuff then back at the new thing. 

It followed his eye movement looking down at the food stuff and bent down to pick it up.

He whimpered. This thing might just take the foodstuff for itself. 

“Oh...” It said.

With a golden shimmer the bars disappeared. 

He darted further back into the room as the new thing came closer. 

It knelt down, holding out the foodstuff. 

No movement was made as he just stared at this thing.

What was it doing?

The new thing shook the food stuff in its hand. 

“Go on, take it.” 

Slowly, cautiously, he reached out and took the food stuff from its hand. 

It smiled. “There you go, Dean- Uhhh.” It quickly stood up, the expression wiped from its face. 

“M1.” It backed out of the room, putting the bars back in place. “You are called Subject M1.” It said as it left back down the hall, more to itself he realized. 

Subject M1? 

No. 

That couldn’t be what he was called. 

What was the other thing it had said. 

Dean?

Yes. That sounded right. 

He liked that better. 

Dean liked that better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the usage of pronouns was kinda confusing this chapter. 
> 
> I didn't want Dean to know his name until John messed up and gave it to him. 
> 
> Just to kinda stress the fact that Dean can't remember anything.


	4. Piss off Old Man

The tape recorder clicked. 

“Report Number 2 on the vessel project, John Winchester speaking.

Subject L2 has woken up. 

I wanted to observe his first movements in person. To Make first contact I suppose… 

My notes on the event are as follows:

I approached the cell. He hasn't caught sight of me yet and is currently feeling his way around the walls and the bars. I think he's looking for a way out. 

I've come closer. He’s seen me. 

He's looking at me but has given no direct reaction. 

I've taken another step closer. 

L2 has moved backwards. He seems wary of me. I've continued to move forward. 

He seems to be growing increasingly agitated, making growling noises and snapping at me. 

I wonder if he would try to attack me if I got too close.

He backed up against the wall. He’s starting to panic.

…

He threw the food bar I left for him at me. 

It plopped on the ground in front of me, a total miss. L2 looks nervous, his only defense already wasted. 

I decided to leave at that moment. Enough exploration for one day. 

It’s interesting. 

Both subjects are either wary or hostile towards me, seeing me as a potential threat… How very perceptive of them. 

Whether this will make things easier or harder is left up in the air. 

This behavior may go away with time. L2 passed 10 years of age this May and M1 will reach 15 in January…. Only a couple months away.

Not that it matters. 

Overall, If this aggression continues to be excessive, we will need to take measures to ensure that it does not become a threat to the project. 

End of report.”

The tape clicked. The tape was taken out of the recorder and a label was stuck onto the side: ‘Vessel Project: Report 1 Side A, Report 2 Side B’. It was put in a box labeled reports. This box would get filled eventually. 

So many reports to make…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah Sam, always the defiant one


	5. What's That Down the Hall

“September 24th, 1993. Report number 3. John Winchester speaking.

The fear and wariness have severely died down. Honestly I'm somewhat relieved. 

I think they accepted I wouldn't harm them when they figured out I'm the one giving them food. 

I've also started taking them out of their cells regularly. They're getting used to my presence and they’ve begun talking again. Not a lot, just small words, mimicking. 

M1 asked me what he should call me. I didn’t know exactly what to say so I told him ‘John Winchester’ or ‘Sir’ if he preferred. It was formal enough but… There’s something oddly unnerving about the subject calling me ‘John.’ 

Though it shouldn’t matter what he calls me. 

Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything.

An interesting thing occurred this afternoon…”

-  
-  
-  
-

John had taken M1 out with him just to sit while he worked on things. 

M1 or rather ‘Dean’ which he’d been calling himself in his head, sat on the floor next to the desk, idly folding and refolding a scrap piece of paper to keep himself occupied. 

“Helloooooooooooo!! IM HUNGRYYY!” 

Both Dean and John started at the sudden noise from down the hall. 

Dean’s stomach gave a low grumble and he realized that he was hungry too, but ignoring that fact he stared, wide eyed, in the direction the noise came from. 

“HELLO?” Dean called. There was silence for a moment, and Dean could feel John’s eyes on his back. 

“Hellooo?” The voice answered. Dean turned, looking at John. 

“Who is that?” Dean asked, pointing down the hall. 

John looked as though thinking, then stood up, beckoning Dean to follow him. 

“I’ll introduce you tomorrow…” He said. “Come. It's time for dinner anyways.” 

Dean followed him down the hall and back into his cell. He was given food. 

It was a little bit before he called down the hall again from his cell, hoping maybe whoever was on the other end could hear him. 

“Helloo?” 

At first no one answered but after a moment there was an echoing call from down the hall. 

They were shushed by that Winchester guy when the lights were turned off for the night, but it was nice to know there was someone else here.

And Dean was going to meet him tomorrow!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of vocabulary at this point. Just hello's, what that's, and vague understandings. The brothers are still figuring it out but that's okay!
> 
> What they don't remember they'll relearn.


	6. The other boy

Dean stood nervously in the room, alone. 

John had left him to get the other one, and it felt like it was taking forever. 

He didn't know why he felt so nervous. This should be exciting. He was finally going to meet someone other than ‘John Winchester’. 

There were footsteps and Dean tensed, the anticipation gnawing at him. 

They stepped through the door, and Dean first laid eyes on this new person. 

He was small, dressed in the same grey clothes as himself. His hair was brown, long-ish, curling around his ears. Dean felt his own hair, realizing just how much shorter it was. 

The other boy tried to clutch at John’s arm, a little shy. John jerked his arm away snapping at the boy not to touch him. 

Dean immediately felt a twist in his chest. He never wanted John to talk to this kid like that again. 

Dean took a tentative step forward and John directed for the boy to move forward as well. 

“M1, this is L2.” He said.

L2… That sounded wrong, but Dean didn’t question it too much. It might be another one of those labeling nickname things John was so fond of using. Dean decided to ask L2 about it later. 

The two slowly approached each other, L2 staring wide eyed up at Dean, with a little bit of awe, he thought. 

“Hello…” Dean said. 

The biggest smile he had ever seen spread across L2’s face.

“Hi!” 

\---------

“September 29th, 1993. Report number 4. John Winchester speaking. 

The meeting was a rousing success. 

I had feared that due to their initial hostility towards me, they might fall into an attitude of the same hostility towards each other. 

This worry proved fruitless however, as upon meeting each other they almost instantly got along. 

Within each other's company their vocal speech was already improving. They asked each other questions about who they were, where they came from, what they knew. 

They did not speak of anything out of the ordinary. Nothing remembered, I believe. 

Good. 

By the end of the meeting they had grown quite fond of each other… 

They cried and pleaded when it was time to separate, but I had other things to get done.

If I am going to take them out now, it should be together. I imagine it'll prove much easier. With a week of observation I will see if I can trust them to be together unsupervised.

I may decide it to keep them together, in the same cell that is. I believe it would best as to save space as well as for the subject's emotional benefits… though in all honesty, this decision may also be attributed to my own selfish needs.

I cannot risk emotional attachment and it's convenient for them to bond with each other rather than me.

And anyways, bonds can be exploited, should the need arise…

End of Report.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww wittle Sammy!!


	7. Quickly Growing Attatched

“October 16th, 1993. Report number 8. John Winchester speaking. 

I’ve moved them into the same room. They are much quieter. Before they were constantly talking in their cells, asking for me, then as soon as they’d figured out each other's presence they were yelling down the halls at each other which, to say the least, was highly disruptive.

Now whenever I go to see them they are holding each other in some way or another, desperate for physical attention, which they have not received from me. 

And even though I gave them two beds, they’ve decided to sleep next to each other in one. I wouldn’t think that would be comfortable.” 

\-----

“December 10th, 1993. Report number 17. John Winchester speaking.

They eat well. As an experiment I gave them only half a portion, just to see what they might do. 

They split the difference. 

I suspect that if I gave them a crumb they would find a way to share it…”

\-----

“January 14th, 1994. Report number 26. John Winchester speaking.

Outside of the cell, they never cease asking me questions.

Why isn’t there anyone else?

What's outside?

Can we go outside with you?

Is this place underground?

Are we a secret?

Many of these I must refrain from answering.

I made an error in my speech once. I was distracted and I referred to them as brothers. I don’t think they knew what the word meant, but they’ve latched onto the word nonetheless. 

At first I thought nothing of this but The Men of Letters have reminded me…

Tools cannot be brothers. 

This error cannot be fixed without extreme intervention, which would take too much time and effort this late into the project. 

I’ll simply have to deal with their incoming torment of ‘Brother this’ and ‘brother that’.” 

\-----

“March 2nd, 1994. Report number 38. John Winchester speaking.

They're starting to read again. L2 is an avid learner, picking up what had been forgotten almost immediately. M1 is another story however. It's not as though he lacks ability, he simply lacks the will. Nothing I say or do makes him want to learn more, however interaction with L2 does help significantly. I think he likes the way L2 smiles at him when M1 says he’s learned something. 

Outside of learning, M1 is clever. A little too clever for his own good I think. He has dreams sometimes…”

\-----

“So are you our dad or something?” Dean asked one day while working on a paper John had assigned him.

John visibly stiffened, turning in his seat and Dean kinda wished he hadn’t asked. 

“Where did you hear that word?” John said in a low voice. 

“I had a dream about it. I think I called you dad…” 

…Sammy was there, he almost said, but he never used that name around John. 

The name ‘Sam’ had also been acquired from a dream, not Dean's actually, and the brothers both decided it just sounded… right. They never used their names in front of John. It might upset him.

“I looked up the word ‘dad’,” Dean glanced at the dictionary on the shelf. “It said ‘a man in relation to a child or children’, and that's kinda what you do… Is that a name you use? Should I call you a dad?” 

John stood up, looking stern and facing Dean. 

“Never use that word, especially in relation to me. Do you understand?” 

Dean made himself small. “Yes, sir.”

John turned, motioning for Dean to follow him. Enough busy work for today. 

It was a moment before Dean spoke up again.

“But isn’t that what you are? … A dad?”

John didn’t answer.

\-------

“April 23rd, 1995. Report number 96. John Winchester speaking.

L2 tried to hug me.

…..

I think I’ve made a mistake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't noticed already, the dates on the reports are the ways for me to portray time jumps. It gives me an excuse not to use the "TWo mOnThS LaTEr" trope I see a lot. 
> 
> At this point Dean is about 16 and Sam is 12 if it wasn't obvious from the dates.
> 
> I've been posting these babies kinda two at a time-ish now, cause I got the chapters and these are short anyways. It won't happen all the time but for now sure why not.


	8. The Illusion of Choice

“I need to do this…

I have to do this.

I’ve waited too long. The project is in danger and the risk--....

If I've been compromised then... 

There cannot be any further delay. People are relying on me. The world is relying on me. 

Yet I feel they are still too… too young. 

And despite what I may feel about this… it's just a diversion. A distraction. We don’t have much time anyhow and they need to be trained as soon as possible. 

It does not matter what they look like, how old they are, what they understand or what they can feel. 

They are tools for a purpose and we must utilize those abilities with the time we have left. 

I have to regain focus. I must regain control. 

I talked to the elders. Expressed my… concerns. They helped remind me why i’m doing this- why we’re all doing this. 

I knew what I signed up for when they gave me this project. I knew what this project would entail. 

If I turned back now I'd risk everything, the very fate of humanity. 

No…

There is no turning back. Not anymore. 

Even if I were to consider… 

I did that once.

Such selfish sentimentality gets people killed.

And now the destiny of the world itself rests in my hands. 

My choice in the matter is an illusion. 

There is no choice. 

I swore an oath.

And the risk of failure is not an option.

I must do what is necessary. I am the only one who can do this. I will do this no matter what it takes. 

I will do this… 

… or all is lost.” 

\------

Dean lay on the table, leather straps holding him down. 

John looked at him, no emotion in his face. 

“Can you move?”

Dean tried to shake his head. The leather strap bit into his throat. 

“No..” He croaked. “It's-... it's hard to breath.”

John nodded turning to another part of the room. There was an ominous orange glow from that direction and the smell of something hot. Something metallic. 

John turned around again, now holding a glowing rod, something wide, curved and etched into the end he held up. 

Dean began to tremble.

“I-I’m scared..” He murmured.

John hesitated for a moment then looked up, a new sense of resolution in his eyes. 

“Good.” He stepped forward, holding the glowing rod. 

“You should be scared of me.”


	9. The First of Many

“May 2th, 1995. Report number 97. John Winchester speaking.

It’s done. 

They begged me to stop. Screamed at me to let them go to just… stop. 

When I didn’t, they screamed for each other, hoping their ‘brother’ could save them. 

They started screaming for anyone to save them. For anybody that could help them.

Nobody came. 

A lesson we must all learn one way or another. 

I wonder what they’ll do now. Their own limited perspective on the world has been destroyed. I wonder if they can even rebuild from this event. 

I wonder if they can adapt.” 

\------

“HHhhh. Damn it… Damn it… it hurts.. It hurts. Son of a bitch… I hate it. I hate it. God damn it…”

“We shouldn’t have trusted him. We shouldn’t… We should have been careful, I knew we shouldn't have trusted him!”

Sam and Dean stood back in their cells, tear stained faces, wincing and reeling at the horror of it all. 

“I don’t get it… I thought-... We were doing everything he told us to do! why would he DO THIS?!!” Dean held his hand tentatively, the searing pain still throbbing in his arm and hand. 

“He wanted to do this to us…” Sam growled. “He wanted to hurt us!” 

“C- Could it be a protection spell or.. Or..” Dean stared, teary eyed at the intricate and precise designs and symbols on the back of his hand. It was an angry red color, the symbols all surrounding a very obvious ‘SM1’ lettering in the center. It hurt like hell. 

"Maybe he had to do this to us."

“STOP GIVING HIM THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT!” Sam shrieked. “HOW LONG WERE YOU SCREAMING IN THERE AS HE BURNED THAT INTO YOUR FLESH?!!” 

“WELL I DON’T KNOW!!” 

Sam turned away. “You don’t get it. We’re just tools to him. He’s always said that. He doesn’t care about us, he never has!”

Hot anger boiled up in Sam's chest and he shook his fists. “He can do god knows what to us and it's not like anyone’s ever gonna stop him! WE certainly can’t. No one cares if we're down here and we can’t get out and… and…”

The color drained from Sam’s face as a thought just struck his mind.

“...ohh no. Ohh nononono oh god… What is- What is he going to do with us?”

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked, a hitch of terror in his voice. Sam wasn’t listening,

“This is just the beginning, isn’t it? It's just going to get worse and worse… Oh god…”

Dean was shaking. “No. NO IT CAN'T GET WORSE! He’ll stop! He’ll stop!”

“Look at what he burned into your hand, don’t you GET IT?" Sam snapped back in a rage. "DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT WE ARE TO HIM?!” 

“NO! HE WON'T HURT US! NOT AGAIN!” There was a ringing in Dean’s ears. 

“ARE YOU KIDDING?! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK HE’S GOING TO STOP!!”

“HE’S NOT- HE CAN’T! HE’LL STOP!” Dean’s heart was racing. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

“OPEN YOUR EYES, DEAN! HE NEVER GONNA STOP, WHY WOULD HE? What has he EVER done for us except-”

Dean gave out. 

He was shaking, sobs coming out in massive heaves as he clutched as his chest. His heart was going too fast and his breathing wasn’t going fast enough. 

Immediately, the rage from Sam dissipated.

“Woah, woah, woah. Hey, you’re ok. You’re gonna be ok, deep breaths now…” 

Sam sat beside Dean, holding him close and rocking back and forth. 

“We’re both ok. Shhhhh, it's alright.” 

Dean clung to Sam, trembling like a leaf. “...Hhhh… I- I’m scared… I’m so s-scared, Sammy…. Hhh…”

“I know, I know, I’m scared too.. Just try to breathe ok? We’ll figure something out…”

They sat there, silent as Dean sobbed and breathed, trying to calm himself down. 

“It can’t get worse than this…” Dean spoke, voice shaky. “It can't get worse… 

“Right..?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean cursing in this one? How did you learn those funny words little man?? 
> 
> My own personal thoughts on this subject is when things are going wrong and he thinks no one is listening, John Winchester swears like a sailor. Dean was obviously listening at one point and just sort of defined his own meaning in them via the context John was using them in. 
> 
> He also might have known some cursing before he forgot everything, I dunno.


	10. Welp, We tried

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, I totally forgot to update last week!  
> Sorry guys :(
> 
> I kinda realized halfway through but at that point I just went "ahh well," and decided to wait until the following Wednesday. 
> 
> Well have fun reading.

“Why did you do that to him?” Dean sat across from John, making his way through an IQ test, which he hated. 

He’d rather fuel his anger into arguing with John. Maybe if he knew how much he’d hurt them he'd be sorry. 

Anyways, Sam didn’t need to go through that. Dean was the older one. Sam didn’t need… He shouldn’t have to do that. 

“What did he ever do to you to deserve that? He didn’t deserve that!” 

“Did you?” John said, raising his brow. “Does his suffering matter that much to you? Interesting…” 

Dean balled his hands into fists, hating the way John said that.

“Why are you even doing this to us?” 

John didn’t answer.

“...Is someone making you do this?” 

Again, John didn’t answer. 

They sat in silence for a moment, Dean dwelling on his building anger and frustration. 

Then all of a sudden John startled, as a loud ringing coming from his coat. He brought out a hand sized plastic thing from his coat, opened it, and held it up to his ear. 

“Yes?” He spoke, visibly annoyed. Dean knew that big plastic thing he was holding with all the buttons could contact… others. He watched as John stood up, facing away from him.

“Late for what? The reports are due tomorrow aren't they?” 

He was talking to someone. He was distracted. Dean glanced at the exit door.

John wasn’t looking at him. If he was careful… if he was quiet.

“I’m sorry, I lost track of time…” John was still talking. 

With a flicker of hope Dean rose from the table, moving slowly and quietly, no disturbances. 

Dean moved to the door and into the hall. Then he was out and he was running. Back to the cell, back to Sam. 

“Sam! Sam!” 

Sam glanced up. He was sitting on the bed, looking like he’d been crying. 

“How-...” Sam stood up, an amazed expression on his face. “How did you get away from him?!” 

“He was on that talking thingy and I snuck away while he wasn’t looking! I’m gonna get you out of here!”

“Great!” Sam said, coming towards Dean. He looked down at the bars between them. “... How?” 

“Ok uhhh...” Dean looked at the bars. “Yeah, uhm, he waves his hands right? When he gets rid of them.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Yeah so…” Dean waved out his hands. 

Nothing happened. 

“Uhh ‘pshooo’” He waved his hands again, flinging them every which way he thought could work. 

Sam stared at him. “It's not working.” 

“Yeah, I can see that, Sammy.” Dean snapped. 

“You think it’s magic?” 

“Well, yeah. But I don't know any magic, do you?”

“Uhh, I think I heard something about- No-! LOOK OUT!”

Sam quickly pointed at something behind Dean, terrified. Dean's heart thundered. 

He tried to turn, but looking down at himself, he saw bright purple sparks surrounding him. 

“NO!-” 

In an instant, he was lifted into the air, suspended. 

John came into view, stony expression and holding up his hand, which emitted the same purple sparks. 

“No no-! I was so close!” Dean cried, reaching for the bars. 

“Apparently, I’m gonna have to keep a closer eye on you then I thought.” John remarked.

Dean struggled against the purple field surrounding him. “What is this?!”

“It's magic,” John said. “Something you want to know about, according to you and your brother's brief discussion earlier.”

Dean and Sam glanced between each other. 

“...Will we be punished?” Sam asked, hesitantly. 

“Yes.” John said looking at Sam. “Normally, I would only punish M1 for this infraction, but given your involvement and the fact that I’d like to make an example of you for M1’s sake, both of you will be coming with me.” 

“No-! Don't hurt him!” Dean screamed. “He didn't even do anything! He didn’t DO ANYTHING!!” 

John twisted his hand, swinging Dean mid air to face him. “Think about that next time you run away from me.” 

With a swish of his hands the bars disappeared. 

“Let’s go.” He said, pushing Sam in front of him and walking the brothers down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of Dean's many attempts to escape. Despite whatever ways John may try to stop them, this definitely won't be Dean and Sam's last attempt. 
> 
> On another note, John didn't actually punish the brothers that bad, mostly he just wanted to scare em. 
> 
> Inflict the trauma early babeeeyy!!


	11. Oops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to, you know, clarify.   
>  You might not need it but still I'm paranoid.
> 
> This chapter gets into some of the weirder parts of the story, but for the most part, just understand that most of this is wishy-washy magic science BS and it'll make more sense once we get a clearer picture of what the Men of Letters are trying to do.

“October 13th, 1995. Report number 139. John Winchester speaking.

I’ve noticed as of late M1’s dreams have become more frequent and intense. At first I thought it was just memories. Moments bleeding through the erasure process. This was expected, I suppose. Not everything gets forgotten. 

But recently he’s started talking of things. Things he shouldn’t know about yet. 

Things he definitely would not have remembered.

He's begun to reference things about the coming Armageddon. Mentioning 66 seals, Lilith, the existence of… angels. 

I'm confident he doesn't actually know what these things really are. Most of what he speaks of are in vague concepts but all the same. The consistencies are undeniable. 

I have a theory about where this knowledge could have come from. It may have to do with a certain connection he has with an archangel, Michael that is…

Now I wouldn't have guessed this connection to manifest so early, which means we have confirmation and a potential problem.

Michael and his angels have started looking for their vessel and they can't find him.

Nice to know the wards are holding up.

Now M1. If he's seeing these things this early… from what I hope and suspect, we may have a window into the future. A useful one. If the angels are looking for him by looking through him, we may have a way to look back. We could be able to see what will be coming in Armageddon and how to prepare for it. 

This ability of M1’s is still not fully developed yet. It’s still in the dreaming stage and is still very delicate. 

If I can manage to somehow… broaden the scope of this power. We may be able to get more details about what’s to come through him. 

I would be able to create an artificial psychic, so to speak.

I’ll have to discuss this with the men of letters, but I believe it would be a brilliant asset to our institution if we can get this experiment to work.”

\------

“October 21th, 1995. Report number 140. John Winchester speaking.

Failure. 

A total and complete failure… I’m sorry to say. 

It was my own fault, I should have been more careful. I recognized its delicacy and chose to push it too far. Tampering with the mind, the very soul even, has its own risks and I ignored them. 

Now it's as though the connection has snapped shut. Cut itself off from however it was being fueled.

I worry. This blockage may come with its own, long lasting, negative side effects. 

It came with a few right out of the gate. There was a period of temporary blindness immediately after the experiment.

L2 did what he could to comfort him, but, I imagine the experience was… somewhat traumatic… for M1. 

And because of this blockage he may end up developing problems. 

There were plans to teach both the subjects spells, magic, defense against occult beings and the ability to resist total control as a vessel. Things we will be facing in the future. 

I fear M1 will have a harder time in learning these abilities. It won't be impossible for him but it will be… difficult. 

With this will come certain frustrations, both within him and myself. 

Highly inconvenient.

On a slightly better note, I believe this ‘sight’ he had will come back one way or another. If it were blocked off entirely, he would no longer be a vessel, which we’ve already tested and confirmed he still is. 

It will take time however. Time we do not have. 

If I can, I will try to accelerate the process, though it is imperative I be more careful. If it breaks further, it could result in utter devastation to the project.

Similar approaches go for if I were to try this experiment on L2. He has begun exhibiting some of the same behavior M1 had when experiencing sight through connection. 

Examples with him though prove to be more unpredictable. Happening at odd times and often disguising themselves as nightmares. This may be due to the fact his connection is on the literal opposite side of the spectrum as M1’s, resulting in a more chaotically infernal powerset. 

Again, if i were to try this experiment on L2, I’d have to be more cautious in every respect. 

I cannot afford another mistake like this again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, wishy-washy magic science BS.
> 
> But hey! Great job John Winchester! You broke your kid and the archangels are aiming to beat your ass once they find you.


	12. Take two

“You blinded him!” 

“Sit in the chair. Stop squirming.”

“You blinded him! How could you do that! Don't you realize how scared he was?!” 

Sam sat in the chair, definitely squirming, and he didn't feel like stopping anytime soon. 

John stood over him, tightening the straps around his wrists and affixing wires to his forehead. A metal ring was placed on Sam’s head as well, holding the wires in place and connecting them all. It was freaking uncomfortable.

“He's stopped having dreams. You blinded him and he stopped having dreams.” Sam muttered, reflecting how Dean wakes up now, that inspired spark in him just gone. It was all John's fault.

John sighed. “If it's any consolation, blinding your brother was not my intent. Besides, he got over it didn't he?” 

Sam clenched his fists. “That's not the right answer.” 

John rolled his eyes. “It never is with you.” He turned to the machine the wires hooked up to. “Fine, fine. I apologize or whatever.”

Sam knew he didn't mean it, but it was better than nothing.

“What did you even do to him anyways?” 

John looked up at him. “The same thing that I'm going to do to you.” 

Sam's stomach dropped. 

“What? Wait, wait! No no nono wait! We can talk about this!!” Sam pulled and twisted on the binds holding him down. The machine before John whired to life and Sam felt a sudden stricken panic within him. “NO, PLEASE, DON’T DO THIS! WHAT IF IT GOES WRONG?!”

“Then I suppose you'll run into similar blockage problems as M1 and there will be only one magic user between us. However I don't intend to make the same mistake again. I will make a breakthrough this time.” 

“NO, NO YOU DON'T KNOW THAT! YOU DON'T KNOW IF IT’LL WORK! WAIT! PLEASE LISTEN TO ME! JUST STOP! JUST STOP!!!” Sam struggled in the seat, trying to rip himself out. Anything to escape. 

“What did I say about squirming?! I've made adjustments to the emitter, but if any of the connections get bumped out of alignment you may end up doing more damage to yourself regardless.” John roared. “Is that what you want?” 

Sam sat back in his chair, heart pounding in his chest, desperate tears streaming down his face. He was shaking, breathing heavily from physical and mental exhaustion. 

“Please… don't do this…” Sam pleaded weakly. “You don't… have to do this...” 

John ignored him. 

“Now head up. Just relax.” The emitter whired with energy and Sam shuddered. 

“It’ll be over in a moment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, if at first you don't succeed....
> 
> Sam's pretty freaked out about this one, mostly cause Dean didn't come back to the cell for a few days and when he did, he was really weak, shaky, and well, he couldn't see for a long while after. 
> 
> The biggest fear for Sam here is not actually what's about to happen to him, it's about not getting back to Dean and Dean worrying about him and having to take care of him. 
> 
> Weird mentality, but both Sam and Dean jump at the chance to help each other but feel bad about being helped, which is total bs btw.


	13. The aftermath

“... You’re finally awake.”

“Ow… what-... what happened?” 

“During the procedure, a rather large amount of energy surged through your brain. I imagine you’ll have a pretty bad headache about now.”

He did. There was a great pounding in Sam’s head making him feel sick to his stomach. He sat up, feeling the blankets shuffle around him. It was dark. 

“I can’t see…” 

“No. You wouldn’t. Your sight will come back eventually as it did with M1 but it should take some time to recover. Be glad, the experiment was a rousing success.”

“.... What did you do to me?”

“Well, when your sight comes back… you will see.”

“Ha ha, right, I’ll see. Because my eyes are healed.”

Even without sight, Sam could tell John was rolling his eyes. 

“... something like that.” John said, and Sam knew he wasn't gonna get any real answers. 

“Come on. Now that you're awake you can go back to your cell.”

Sam shuffled his feet off the bed, feeling the floor beneath them. He pushed himself off but then with a horrid tummy flip, he sat back down, unbalanced on his toes. 

Sam cleared his throat. “You gonna help me up? Cause I can't exactly see anything.” 

John huffed. “Here, you can hold onto my…. Hold onto this.” Sam felt his hand being thrust forcefully around something, and under his fingertips he felt a sleeve.

Great. John was avoiding hand holding now… Prick. 

Sam was pulled up out of the bed he was in and began walking forward, following John’s movements. 

They walked in silence for a while before Sam spoke up. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

John didn't reply so Sam took that as an invitation to continue. 

“What did you mean by magic user?” 

“.... I had plans to teach you and M1 magic eventually as part of your training.” 

“And you said if things went wrong, there’d only be one between us. Is that the mistake you made with my brother?” 

“... Yes. I tried to broaden the connection he had…. I made a mistake.”

“So you didn't mean to hurt him.”

“I did what I had to. Whether that requires hurting him or not doesn't matter.”

They walked in silence a little longer. 

“Do you hate us?” Sam said in a quiet voice. John gave pause. 

“... I don't feel anything for you.”

Sam didn't know why that hurt him so much.

“I don't have time for this, come on.”

John tugged at Sam to keep walking.

They didn't say anything the rest of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A the many attempts to get an explanation.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, and if John Winchester ever seems ooc in this fic, most of that was kinda purposeful. 
> 
> He's not exactly that beer drinking, focused on hunting, all tough, American dude in this fic cause he was raised men of letters style.
> 
> Basically the whole Abadon thing never happened, so the men of letters are still around and John was raised as one of them, in that, you know, proper, give respect to your leaders, never disobey orders, be concise, everything is for the good of humanity type attitude. 
> 
> He still met Mary though, cause angels and demons are manipulative and the tides of fate and all that.


End file.
